


Don't Touch the Spider

by Spidey_Pool_99



Category: Peter Parker / Wade Wilson - Fandom
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Caring Wade, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Deception, Hurt Peter Parker, Kidnapping, M/M, Peter Shut Up, Protective Wade, Sassy Peter, Short Story, Sorry Not Sorry, Torture, extreme violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-07-22 06:51:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7424380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spidey_Pool_99/pseuds/Spidey_Pool_99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter has a hard time staying out of trouble and finds himself in an awkward situation. Wade is annoyed that his Mexican food is sitting on his kitchen table waiting for Peter to come home. He gets an anonymous phone call that sends him over the edge. His baby boy needed him.. no one touches the mercenaries spider except him....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a short story probably two chapters... Trying to clear my mind while i am in-between writing prompts. I hope you enjoy!  
> *Not beta read* *Comments are always welcomed and enjoyed!* *Leave kudos, they feed the author*

It had been one of those days that Peter Parker wished he could it the rewind button and undo. Just to curl back up in his comfy loft apartment underneath his and Wade's large comfortable king comforter. He pictured himself almost making himself into the human form of a burrito.

After a day of being screamed at by Jameson, Peter hung his head low as he shifted his dragging feet to head in the direction of his broken down apartment complex a few blocks down. The cracked concrete under his feet kept his attention as he walked slowly down the busy bustling sidewalks of New York City. The sun was setting and the busy city walkers were passing him by quickly trying to get home as well. The boy hugged his long black trench coat close to his body as he walked trying not to show his Deadpool sweatshirt underneath. It was his boyfriend's idea for the boy to wear this of course, always telling him how good he looked in red and black. Wade would most certainly be waiting for him at home by now, most likely with a table full of assorted Mexican cuisine.

"Stupid Jameson," Peter whispered angrily under his breath as he kicked a piece of asphalt along the sidewalk. It skipped along and came to a stop at the mouth of an empty alleyway.

It wasn’t Peter's fault that he didn’t move quick enough to retrieve his coffee. Who did this guy think he was? The _Flash_? This wasn’t the first nor the last time Peter had to listen to his boss fire and then subsequently re-hire him within an eight hour work day. The guy was just lucky that Peter didn’t slap a mass of webbing across his face to shut him up on a daily basis. Wade secretly was always a supporter of Peter webbing up the horrible man and often coaxed the younger to lose control one day and make the merc proud.

 _What a horrible influence_ , the boy smirked.

Peter continued to grin at the thought as he came to a stop at a red light a few blocks from his apartment. He had seemingly lost the foot traffic of New Yorker's a few blocks back and it gave Peter a chance to take in the fresh fall air. The smell of crisp leaves and pumpkin pie filled the air. This was the boy's favorite time of year indeed and made him think about patrol later that night with Wade and being free to swing through the air.

Unfortunately the serene and clear crisp night was broken by the blood curling scream of what sounded like a woman down a nearby alley.

 _Great_ , thought Peter.

He ran across the street and peered around the corner of an apartment building to see a woman pinned by the throat to the back of a brick wall surrounded by four rather large goons who had pulled a knife. The woman was frantically kicking her feet to no avail and only seemed to piss off her handler more. She opened her mouth to scream again, but her mouth was muffled off by one large hand of her captor who leaned over and whispered something in her ear. The fear in the woman's eyes was enough to send Peter over the edge. Even though he did not have his Spiderman suit, he could not let this crime go unresolved. He still had his web shooters attached to his arms under his coat and that should have been enough to deter the men enough for the woman and him to escape.

Peter knew that Wade was waiting for him at their apartment and would be pissed if he found out that the boy was fighting goons without him, especially since he was out of uniform. The hero could not waste any more time and stepped out into the opening of the alley with his arms pushed to his sides in a defensive stance.

"HEY!"

The goons at the end of the alley turned their attention to the boy. Grins splashing across their disgusting soot covered faces.

"What do you want punk, this is none of your concern… now run along you little…"

_Don’t say it._

_He's going to say it._

"TWINK"

_He said it._

Peter brought his right hand up to the bridge of his nose and rubbed the inside of the bridge of his nose in small circles. He hated being called that name. Wade once made the mistake when Peter and him first started patrolling together and called the young man that name. The end result was Wade thrown over the side of a tall building and landing face first into the concrete below startling a few bystanders who ran away in horror and disgust. He was most certainly _NOT_ a 'twink' and he was about to show these goons who was boss, hiding super strength now put aside.

"You really shouldn’t have said that," Peter retorted before dropping his hands at his side again letting out a breath that made a small puff of smoke in the cool autumn air. "Let the lady go."

"Oh the _twink_ is talking again." The larger of the goons said dropping the woman on the wall and shifting his stance to Peter. "Talking like a big man, let's see if you can back it up."

Peter grinned a slight smile that pulled at the side of his mouth. He was going to have fun with this. He leaned forward and began to take long strides down the alleyway towards the assholes at the other end. The boy remembered not to show too much of his strength as to not give himself away to the woman cowering on the ground. He easily evaded the reaching arms of Goon #1 and bounced off the brick wall and grabbed the fire escape above his head and smashed his foot into the man's face sending a sickening crack sound echoing through the alley. The goon hit the ground with a loud thud and began wheezing trying to catch his breath. Peter let go of the fire escape and landed effortlessly in front of the woman with his fists raised.

"Who's next?" Peter taunted, eyeing the other standing criminals in front of him. He felt a sense of pride being able to take down that first goon with one fellow swoop.

Then the unexpected happened. The other three goons started cackling under their breath at him and crossing their arms across their chests while holding their stances firm. Their smiles could be seem pulling at the corners of their mouths.

_Why were they laughing?_

Peter looked perplexed at the scene in front of him. Wasn’t _he_ supposed to be the one laughing?

"To answer your question… _Peter_ …. I think I will be next…"

Peter heard the voice behind him and before he had the chance to glance at the source he felt a sharp pain in his neck and his body hit the litter covered concrete ground with a deadening thud. His vision was swimming before his half-lidded eyes as he tried to focus through his spider sense sending a delayed warning up his spine and through his skull.

A spinning body walked over to the front of his face and squatted down in front of him. The shoes and outfit were familiar. It belonged to the woman who was cowering on the floor not a few seconds prior. She no longer was shivering in fear, but cackling in laughter. Her long brown hair pulled back from the front of her face. Her black glasses sitting on the edge of her nose.

"Oh tisk tisk… to bad… I would have thought the boyfriend of the world's most dangerous mercenary would have put up more of a fight."

Peter tried to pull his arms underneath his body, but was met with a blunt harsh kick to his unprotected stomach which flipped him on his side and forced the blackness around his vision to swirl and distort. All he knew was that his breathing labored and he fell into a dark abyss surrounded by the laughing of the woman and her henchmen.

The woman leaned over the boy and placed her hand through his chestnut brown hair keeping her hand stationary on the boy's form.

"Sorry boy, but your merc owes me a rather large debt, and you are my insurance that I get it."

With that the woman made a quick motion with her head for one of her goons to pick the lifeless boy's body off the ground and walk to the end of the alley to their awaiting vehicle.

_Typical.._

______________________________________________

"Where is my baby boy damn it!" Wade threw his hands in the air and quickly placing his elbows down harshly on the armrest of the sofa to place his head in his hands in a huff. Peter was an hour late from coming home from work and the merc stared eyingly at the table full of Mexican with hungry eyes.

{It was probably that douchebag Jameson again}

[We should really kill that fucker, he is getting on our nerves as well as the reader's nerves]

{True dat!}

"I totally agree guys, but Petey says.. (with air quotes in the air and using the highest pitch voice) 'Wade killing is wrong!' So I can't do it, I have to be a good boy."

Wade may be known as many things (Merc with a Mouth, or Deadpool, or the deadliest mercenary in the world) but he lacked the hero common sense, hence the need for Peter.

When Peter first met Wade, it was honestly on accident when they both ran into each other in the air streams of the New York night time. Literally, Deadpool was jumping from roof to roof screaming something about "Parkour" and happened to slam into the webslinger as he was passing by. Peter, as the merc remembered it, was not too thrilled when he skidded across the roof tearing open his suit that was now riddled with gravel.

{Yeah, but who else can say they fell in love at 'first swing'?}

[White… shut the hell up, honestly… god I wish I had hands to slap your dumb face]

{You are just jealous of punny awesomeness}

[Yeah.. okay.. notice my eyes.. THAT I DO NOT HAVE.. that are rolling]

"Dude's… lets get back to our awesome flashback," Wade said staring blankly ahead with his stomach grumbling.

{[Oh sorry…}]

Anyway… after the initial run-in and a few occasions of Spiderman throwing Deadpool's ugly scarred ass over a few building ledges they finally came to terms. There new friendship turned into teaming up on missions at night and sharing rooftop dinners after. It took months for Wade to work up the courage to finally ask Spidey out, and that was the night Peter revealed himself to the merc. Wade could have sworn he died right then and there. It was the best night of his life.

{HEY! I THOUGHT GETTING US WAS THE BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE}

[Yeah big guy come on! Where is the love?!]

"You know I love you guys, but you are nothing compared to my Spidey, come on now there is no comparison with that awesome bubblegum butt."

Wade suddenly shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He still donned the Deadpool mask and began tapping his gloved fingers on his face. The irritation was beginning to overwhelm the man and when he got hungry, no one, not even Peter wanted to be around him. The man readjusted his position with a huff and slid down in the chair so that now his long muscular legs hung straight of the end of the chair digging into the hardwood floor of the apartment while his long defined arms flung over the side of the couch. He looked like an overgrown child throwing a temper tantrum.

He grumbled under his breath, but it was hard to decipher between the sound of a voice grumbling or a stomach rumbling.

Wade stared at the clock once more and huffed … Peter was so very late.

At that instant his cellphone went off playing his iconic "Wannabe" Spice Girl ringtone.

"YO, I'LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT"

"SO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT WHAT YOU REALLY REALLY WANT"

Wade fumbled through the various pouches on his belt in a huff not even trying to make an effort to move from his sunken position on the couch. He stuck his hand deep into his pockets and retrieved the pink Hello Kitty IPhone and raised it to his masked ear, his white eyes closing tightly.

"This better be fucking important.." he started moving his free hand to maneuver over to his face making a drawn out motion.

"W-Wade.."

The merc's eyes snapped open at the voice. He then whipped forward in his seat and into a standing position within the blink of an eye.

"Baby boy? Baby boy is that you? What's wrong?"

There was silence at the other end of the line.

"Pet…"

The merc could not finish his sentence when he heard a sickening smack at the other end of the line followed by the wheezed cough of someone in the background. At the sound, Wade almost dropped the phone to the floor. He heard what sounded like his baby boy in the background getting hit again and trying to curse out the unknown source of the pain.

A small growl erupted from Wade as he began to white knuckle the phone to his ear closer.

"Hello Mr. Wilson," a familiar voice said into the receiver. "I believe I have stumbled across something that belongs to you. Poor dear doesn’t look so good."

"Who the fuck is this…"

"Oh now Mr. Wilson, language! There are children present. You see…. you owe me something and I am here to collect," the female voice said sternly into the phone.

"What the fuck…"

Before he could finish his question again, he heard another yelp of pain in the background as a deep thud was heard again followed by a grunted curse.

"Mr. Wilson I would mind your language I don't think your little toy can take much more before he is used to clean off the shoes of my men."

Wade winced under his mask narrowing his eyes. He decided on taking a deep breath while tapping the toe of his boot on the ground and finally slamming his fist down on the television in front of him shattering it to pieces on the ground.

"What do you want." Wade gritted through closed teeth.

"Mr. Wilson, I need you! Please come down and let's have a nice little business discussion face to face shall we?"

Wade collected himself and seethed, "Time. Place."

"Come down to the docks in an hour and of course come alone. My men will take you from there. Until then, goodbye Mr. Wilson."

Before the call ended, Wade made out the yelling in the background of Peter telling him, 'it was a trap' and being silenced once again. Wade took the phone in his hand and whipped it across the living room, smashing it into the wall of the kitchen a short distance away. He grabbed the sides of his mask and began to breathe heavily. His chest rising and falling in a frantic manor.

_I need to get Peter back._

_How did this person know who I am?_

All Wade knew at that moment was that he had to get a plan and get it quick. But luckily for him, he had put a tracer in one of Peter's web shooters months ago in case something like this were to happen. You could never be to careful dating this infamous mercenary. The merc frantically searched his various pouches again and took out a small device that resembled a small MP3 Player.

{Come on writer lady, the reader's have no idea what the hell that old tech is!}

[Yikes! I have to friggin' agree why don’t you just say CD Player so we can feel all warm and cozy on the inside]

 _Shut it!_ Wade thought at the boxes. _This isn’t the time to fuck around with the writer!_

{[fine… for Petey then]}

Wade turned on the small device and saw the clear blinking red light on the screen. He sighed in relief to know that the boy's captors had not seen the shooters yet and he could see his location clearly at the edge of the docks near the cargo containers.

"So friggin' _cliché_ ," Wade huffed to himself gathering up the supplies he would need to get his baby boy back. He strapped his signature katanas to his back and filled every single holder on his person with any type of gun or grenade the merc could grab in his arms reach. He slid a clip into one of his gun and cocked it back in front of his face memorized in the sound and smell.

"Daddy is about to express some rage. Hold on baby boy, I'm coming…"


	2. Asshats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is a short chapter, but you all deserve it for your patience. I am sorry for the delay, but life has gotten in the way. I was also getting lost in other fan fictions as well and time escaped me. I will be re-writing the first chapter. After re-reading it today I was a little ashamed to say the least haha. Thank you to those who have left encouraging comments. I am extremely sorry for doing this to you fabulous readers. I will get the last part of this done this week. PROMISE! xoxoxo

“Y’u better st’r’t pray’n,” a slurred voice came cutting through the large dark room.

A hearty laugh was the short reply.

“Why is that princess? You thinkin your gunna’ do something? I am shaking in my size 10s.”

Goon #2 continued laughing not even bothering to look up from the card game currently occupying his and his fellow henchmens time while they waited for the mercenary to show.

The old worn out shack was in utter darkness aside from the low hanging light suspended from the top of the ceiling. It honestly looked like a scene straight out of a 1920s gangster movie. Peter pried opened his bruised eyes to take a quick visual around and gain his bearings once again. He remembered them putting him on the phone with Wade. A woman telling Wade to come down and collect Peter in exchange for what he owed her. Then he remembers these goons beating him within an inch of his life. That explains why he is no longer sitting up in the steal chair they had him attached to earlier. He was now laying on the ground in a heap of broken limbs. They didn’t even have him tied up anymore which concerned him immensely. They knew he wasn’t a threat and couldn’t fight back.

“F’ck… y’u” Pete snarled through his gritted teeth.

At that moment, Goon #2 had had enough and let out a covered sigh. He gently put down his playing cards and pushed back the chair he was currently occupying to turn forcefully at Peter. His eyes blown black with rage.

“Listen fruit cup, I have had to listen to your bitching for close to an hour and I am SO done with your shit!” He walked quickly to Peter’s form and bent down close to the boy’s face implanting an index finger less than an inch from the boy’s face. “Say one more thing and I swear to you I will end you here before your boy toy even shows.”

Peter’s swollen eyes narrowed. He knew it wasn’t smart to instigate a fight with this goon, but hey, he is dating Wade Wilson, this is what the merc does. Danger comes with the relationships.

Peter moved his head up to face his foe and grinned slightly causing his slit lip to crack wide open and run down his chin. The boy looked insane, and the man took notice.

At that moment, the webslinger took a deep breath and spit a mouthful of dirt, blood, and spit into the face of the goon who then stumbled backwards flailing his arms around trying to wipe the grime from his face. Within seconds, the other henchmen at the table abandoned their cards and came running to their friend’s side.

“I think this kid needs to cool off, what do you think guys?” One of the men stated to the group.

All three men helped their friend to his feet and gave him a handkerchief. All of their attention finally fell back on Peter who tried to back himself father into the wall of the warehouse. They all grimaced and then proceeded to kick and punch the boy with all of their might. Broken bones now grinding against each other and new cuts littering his body.

The strangled screams came in waves as Peter tried to curl in on himself to shield his vital organs from the ever raining blows. One particular stomp of a black boot met the boy’s clenched jaw causing a loud snap to irradiate through the empty room. Peter let a groan escape his lips as his eyes started to roll to the back of his head, not quite ready to surcome to unconsciousness just yet.

The beating continued for a few more breathless moments and the black dots started to swirl bigger in his vision again and he was thankful that maybe this would be the end to the brutal beating.

“STOP!” came a loud voice inside the room.

The goons stopped what they were doing mid-swing and mid-kick to look in the direction of the disembodied voice. Peter wheezed through his now broken jaw gasping for air in the process. His arms protectively trying to cover his stomach and ribs to no avail. They felt like weights at his sides.

“We need him alive you IDIOTS!”

A sudden ruffle of people sounded in Peter’s ears and he could make out a form coming to his side and finally coming into his peripheral vision.

It was the woman from the alley. This time she had her hair pulled back in a high bun on the top of her head and the same black framed glasses sat perched on the bridge of her nose. She wore a black business suit that hugged her curves in all the right places. He tall black shoes clocked along the floor as she walked closer to the scene. She slowly reached her hand out to brush along the side of Peter’s face and push the sweat covered hair out of the boy’s face. The hero tried to pull his head away in pain but was met with hard hands on either side of his shoulders holding him in place.

She slowly stood back up and rubbed her right hand on her forehead.

“You almost killed him JIM!”

Ah, Goon #2 has a name…

“He has a smart fucking mouth and wouldn’t shut the hell up Allison! Kid needs to know who is boss here!” can the strong retort.

“I think you forget who is the boss! I am!” Allison veered right back with a finger pointed right into the man’s chest. “We need him alive to get our pay days, capiche? I don’t give a flying rat’s ass that he hurt your little feelings. Suck it up! We aren’t loosing out on this payday because your feelings were hurt by some fucking kid!”

“Yes boss,” Jim physically backed down taking a step back and readjusting his stance with his hands placed behind his back.

“Clean this mess up and get this kid ready for his debut. We should be expecting Mr. Wilson shortly.”

With that, the woman turned and strut towards the other end of the warehouse through a set of double doors. Her heels clicking along the hard concrete floor sending shock waves of pain through Peter’s bruised and battered brain.

“Well you heard the lady boys… we got to get this kid ready for his debut.” Goon #2 stated with a smirk on his face looking down at Peter and then back at his friends. “I know just the place to put him to cool him down while we clean this mess.”

Peter continued to struggle to gain a full breath through his mouth as the men descended on him. They began picking him up quickly and placed him on a moveable metal table located on the other side of the large room. Each step or movement sent shockwaves of pain through Peter’s frail body.

 _Damn this slow healing factor_. Peter thought idly. _Where the hell are we going?_

“Okay hot stuff, to cool you down for a little bit, the boys and myself have decided to put you in a little thing we like to call a ‘time out’.”

The men laughed simultaneously as they walked pushing the table holding Peter’s barely conscious body to a wall that housed a large metal door. Peter tried to curl his head lower to focus his dilated eyes on the door which was labeled “Freezer”.

Peter let out a pained whimper and tried to move off the table when four sets of hands held down all of his appendages.

“Oh no no sunshine, you wanted to act like a hot head, now you are gunna cool off like a good boy.”

Peter was then secured to the table with leather straps that pushed his chest down even further which made his breathing almost non-existent. His chest, arms, stomach, and legs were held down to the table uncomfortably.

 _Assholes. They are all assholes_. Pete thought. They were lucky his jaw was broken and he couldn’t form words.

The cool metal door opened with a hiss and let out a cold breeze that made the goons and Peter shiver. They proceeded to push the table inside the meat locker and secured the wheels to prevent it from moving. There were empty metal hooks hanging from the ceiling and a low lit blue light illuminating from the flickering ceiling tiles.

_Great. I hope this doesn’t kill me before Wade gets here. He is going to be so pissed._

Peter tried to move his head to the side to meet the eyes of one of the goons trying to communicate his rage and anger to no avail. The goons simply looked at each other in accomplishment.

“Alright there twink, stay in here and cool off. No more bothering the help. We will come back when we feel you have calmed down.”

One by one each goon left. The large metal door was closed behind them sealing in the cold air along with Peter.

Peter struggled against the restraints to no avail. His broken ribs and bruised torso were not allowing him to get much accomplished strapped to the damn metal table. He tried to pick up his head in an attempt to take in his surroundings again, but by doing that the black spots began encroaching his vision again trying to force him under. He knew he had to stay awake to keep his body from going hypothermic.

_Who knew how long those assholes would keep him in here._

Peter laid his head back down to the table and took as deep of a breath as he could muster. He was in a real pickle here. He hated to admit it, he needed Wade. He needed his knight in shining armor to come in to get him. There was no way he was going to get out of this one without the mercs help.

So he will have to sit, and wait. He really hoped Wade would hurry up, the cold was starting to nip at his fingers and toes.


End file.
